


incapable

by ephemeral_fallacy



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, But if Hide is dead, Flower Meaning Foreshadowing and Feeling Things, Half-AU, He won't, I promise Kaneki doesn't die, I swear, Lots of Angst, Lots of Feelings That I Shouldn't Be Having TBH, Major character death - Freeform, Multi, No I don't promise that at all, different kinds of love, fuck everything, like okay dont read this if you dont like death, not canon at all, theres also a lot of flower meanings here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeral_fallacy/pseuds/ephemeral_fallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was he the most selfish, for wanting everyone to be happy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	incapable

**Author's Note:**

> //un-beta'd  
> might suck ass tbh, but im just i really wanna write lots of TG  
> especially hidekane  
> tALK TO ME ABOUT HIDEKANE OR ANY PAIRING TBH I LOVE EVERYONE/EVERYONE  
> I don't own Tokyo Ghoul.  
> //laughs at the flower meanings //hinthint

**1\. what is it**

If Kaneki could spot love, he could not see it being directed to him. If he could spot love, he would not find it in himself from another. But he could see it and its tender red threads connecting his heart to others. A one-way road, a freeway traveled by his lonesome.

He loved everyone, even if it didn't show in the ways he would've liked it. (After all, Tsukiyama did try to eat him once and he was always so creepy...)

People always asked him who he liked in each stage of his life and he always answered, "I don't like anyone," but perhaps that was a lie. Surely, it was, because as a ghoul, Kaneki suddenly wanted to shower everyone with affection. He wanted them to be happy, but _how would a single ghoul accomplish that...?_

_"My theory of happiness would be to see everyone smiling in the end, holding hands, and I don't have to be a part of it."_

**2\. hinami loves his words**

If Kaneki wanted to see someone who loved him innocently, he could simply turn to the side and find a ghoul, a person, just another girl, that loved him. Fueguchi Hinami, soft-spoken, golden butterfly, she loved Kaneki like a brother, a silver-tongued brother that brought about new worlds and new words to discover.

She made sure to say it everyday, thank you, Kaneki, and she paired it with an irresistible smile. Surely, he knew. Surely, he knew she loved him. And he wouldn't...

_Hinami clutches his books close to her heart, her eyes focusing on someplace so far that even she doesn't know, looking at something that makes tears prick in the corners of her eyes. Silently, her lips trace the word that he first taught her. The flower, the flower, she whispers without a sound, and finally, there, the tear rolls down her cheek and stains the page open in her hand, right over 'heart.'_

**3\. touka loves his innocence**

It was pathetic in the beginning, and she even admitted it.

Kaneki with his black hair and his eyepatch and his shy demeanor was just a wimp and because he was a wimp, that was why Touka missed him. She missed the messily awkward way he would make coffee and the way he would stammer to apologize because he was so afraid of her. But he was changed and he was changed yet again.

She honestly hated the dead look in his eyes. She hated him for changing into someone else, even if it wasn't his fault. She hated him for losing the innocence that kept him so precious to her.

And yet, she still loved him, despite what she loved being ripped from him.

_Touka stands alone, behind the counter of Anteiku, drying a coffee cup, when it suddenly slips out of her hand. It falls and falls, smashing against the ground like a dead corpse, shattering into a million pieces. She crouches and moves to pick the shards up, but pricks her finger. The swelling drop of blood suddenly brings back an apologizing stutter of the past and the girl stifles the sob that would have echoed in only her ears._

**4\. nishiki loves his stupidity**

Nishiki hated him. It was obvious by the venom behind the glasses every time he crossed paths with the half-ghoul.

He hated him with such a passion that Kimi commented, "Your hatred from him almost crosses the boundary between hate and love, you know," and that startled him. The ghoul never thought about it, never thought about the stupid, shy, useless half-ghoul Kaneki Ken changing.

It never crossed his mind that perhaps the white hair signified his aging and his impending death. But not even clairvoyants could see the path of the outlier, and certainly not the glasses-donning ghoul.

_Nishiki is stunned by the news; he falls to his knees and his glasses clatter against the floor of his apartment. His hands have gone cold and clammy, his mind isn't functioning. Of course, he should've known. He should've known the stupid kid would've thought something like that would've given them **happiness** , but he could only feel despair, feel only the tears streaking down his cheeks. Because there was still a debt he needed to repay to the idiot and now, there wouldn’t be a chance left for him to redeem himself._

**5\. amon loves his integrity**

He never knew it would end like that.

He always believed it would've been a grand ending, a parade to match the festivities. Because ghouls were just evil and the humans were good. Just black and white, stark difference, that was what Mado hammered in his mind. But Kaneki was different.

Suddenly, in Amon's world, he colored it gray. It was still monotonous, but the lines of his own morality began to blur. The white-haired ghoul, the black-haired kid, they blended into one face that the Dove couldn't forget. Sometimes, Amon would wake, sweat drenching his body, the red blood of the sacrifice seemingly staining his skin, the taste of regret coloring his mouth with the gray the kid, _he really was just a kid_ , dragged behind him .

_Amon sits at the ramen stand, mulling over a bowl and blatantly ignoring the waiter who tries to talk to him. He doesn't know why he's feeling so much regret; the ghoul is dead, it's a job done. But he remembers the pain and the screaming and the blurring lines of Kaneki's humanity, and finds it in himself to pity the half-ghoul. Amon finds himself truly sympathizing with the poor unfortunate soul of a boy destined for broken mirrors and bad luck._

**6\. tsukiyama loves his being**

It wasn't unknown that Tsukiyama wanted to eat Kaneki, for his delicious flesh, for his unrivaled power.

But it wasn't known that perhaps in his mind, he kept delaying it. Saying, one day I will, saying, I will surely do it, but never doing so. Tsukiyama found it in himself to look past the scent and find the person, to examine every inch of him. It was there that he found he loved Kaneki.

Tsukiyama wanted to always be by his side, he wanted Kaneki to call him his best friend. He wanted the half-ghoul to acknowledge him as not just another ghoul, but as a friend. Perhaps that was his goal all along, but in the way, it got blurred a little. By greed, by envy, by lust, by sin, but was he really pure now? Perhaps it was just his tears that cleared his eyes of his own sight, showed him what was really the most important.

_Tsukiyama puts down the handkerchief, still stained with Kaneki's blood. **Calmato** , he mutters to himself, but he can’t feel his own words. The blood smells rank and disgusting, rotten from age, and the gourmet lacks his lustrous attitude. He lacks his smooth French and his elegant mannerisms, because now, he is just a watchdog without a master to watch. His shoulders are slumped and his greasy smile is gone. Tsukiyama finds Kaneki's death unforgivable. He was never supposed to leave him, and yet..._

_Cruelly, Kaneki Ken had left him to stand in the dust cloud he left behind._

**7\. hideyoshi nagachika loves his soul**

The blonde wept over his friend's cold body. He broke his headphones in a fit of anger and his pillow was wet for weeks, his eyes were red and even though Kaneki never went back to college, Hide couldn’t drag himself out of his shell to meet the light. His heart had been ripped into pieces, and Kaneki could not enjoy the things he enjoyed, why should he? Hide was never really the type to show his real emotion, _so_ _well hidden behind that sunshine mask_ , but the tears were real.

As much as he wished for them to be joking, there was no mistaking the truth. Because he wasn’t in the library, he wasn’t in his room, he wasn’t lounging about the brick wall with a book in hand and his soft expression, he was _gone._ **gone**

But he found himself in the bookstore Kaneki frequented, staring at the works of Takatsuki Sen. Imagining that his hand caressing the spines' of the books was Kaneki’s, the voice whispering, _Takatsuki’s work is really amazing_ , as Kaneki’s. Imagining that he was beside him, that there would be warmth on his shoulder where the shy bookworm would put his hand and that wouldn’t change even with white hair and a centipede in his ear.

Because Kaneki was himself. He was _himself,_ the barest form of himself, even if he didn’t realize it, even if he believed there was a parasite eating his insides and clawing to the surface of his skin.

_But he never did find the truth, did he?_

_No, but perhaps Hide would find out for him, in his stead._

 

* * *

 

_There is once a boy with hair like the rosy yellow of a sunflower who smiles like a glittering spread of diamonds. There is once a boy with hair like raven feathers and kind eyes, deep and dark with understanding, and a demeanor so soft he was an angel. Midst a field of flowering purple hyacinths and geraniums, they stand, back-to-back, never quite touching, their fingers a centimeter apart. The golden sun clutches a daffodil so tightly, the flower wilts, but it stands strong, a love threatened to be ripped, but withstands the pressure and the suffocation. The silver moon gently holds a hydrangea, but in his other hand, hidden, an ambrosia. The expression on his face is impeccably soft._

_So soft that one would have never guessed he was regretting the words he never had the chance to say to the people that loved him back._

 

**Author's Note:**

> ah i hate myself  
> time to write hidekane fluff that i had in mind  
> //runs like the wind


End file.
